


Home At Last

by SixofCrowsBabies



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Gen, Other, Zoya's family, sad!zoya, zoya goes home for a visit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 14:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11899770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SixofCrowsBabies/pseuds/SixofCrowsBabies
Summary: Zoya goes home to visit her family for a bit, and way more happens than she anticipated.





	Home At Last

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'm gonna do that high school AU where they're all the same age. And I wrote this a while ago, but this is like an improved rewrite. I mostly drew inspiration from when she said that she had an aunt and niece that died. I wanted to show a vulnerable Zoya and her family and other aspects. Please r&r!

Zoya, clad in her dark blue traveling clothes and hair in a top bun, walked down to the carriage that was waiting for her. She was off to visit her family. 

"Where are you going," Genya had asked as she passed by her in the halls.

"To visit my family," the Squallor had answered. 

"You have a family," the Tailor had asked. 

"Yes," replied Zoya, sticking her nose up a little. "A mother and father and four siblings. All girls."

Genya's eyes had widened and she kept walking without another word. Zoya knew where she was going;to tell David that some poor souls had to be Zoya's parents and that she had four siblings that were probably all like her. 

It took several days, but finally Zoya reached the small village that was her hometown. The citizens were quite surprised to see a very expensive, royal looking carriage pull right up into the town square. The Squallor got out and went straight to a nearby house. 

She knocked on the door, heard lots of thumping and crashing sounds, and a few seconds later, the door opened. 

A young boy that looked a lot like her was at the door. When he saw her, his face lit up. 

"Aunt Zoya's home," he yelled into the house. He gestured for her to come inside and ran to get the others.

Her sisters and nieces and nephews came out and greeted her, followed by her father, and finally her mother.

Zoya was shocked. Her mother looked like she aged twenty years in nine months. Her hair was gray, skin wrinkled, posture sagging. All Grisha are tall, and Zoya had always been a good few inches above her mother, but never this much. 

"Madraya," she exclaimed, running forward to greet her. 

"Oh," her mother said. "Zoya...Zoya!"

"Yes, yes, it's me, Madraya," replied Zoya, bending down to hug her. Everyone else watched in silence.

That night, they had a good meal, prepared by all the best chefs in the village. 

Everyone peppered Zoya with questions, including some rumors.

"Rumor has it you're going to be queen," her sister Maya exclaimed. 

"Well, no," Zoya responded. "I'll tell you when it'll happen." She winked.

"This nation needs a Grisha queen," Maya stated. 

"Well, glad a non Grisha can agree with that," muttered the Squallor.

Halfway through the meal, her young nieces and nephews dragged her to the backyard to show them her powers and play. She gladly did.

Of course, everyone in the family was grieving over her aunt and niece's death several months ago. Her mother was taking it the hardest, of course. It was her sister and grandchild. 

That night, Maya told her that when she wasn't there, their mother was even worse. She barely ate, moped and grieved and cried all day, couldn't function. She still wasn't doing well. 

They were all sitting around the fireplace when Zoya's father came out of her parents' bedroom. He gestured for Zoya to talk to him.

"You should go to your mother," he said softly. "She's...not well."

Zoya's eyes widened and she immediately ran to the bedroom. 

Her mother was sitting upright in the bed, covered in blankets, looking very old and sick and frail. 

"Madraya," Zoya said breathlessly, running to the side of the bed and kneeling by it. 

"Zoya," her mother said. "Daughter."

"Yes," the Grisha said. She was silently crying now.

"Tell your friend Sankta Alina to take me," the mother breathed. She closed her eyes. Her chest and stomach lay flat. 

"Madraya," Zoya said suddenly, standing up quickly. "Madraya?"

There was no response. The older woman had stopped breathing. 

"MADRAYA," Zoya shrieked, shaking her mother and desperately trying to awaken her. It was to no avail. 

She ran out to see the others, tears streaming down her face. 

"Madraya, she's," she said hurriedly, and the others understood. 

Her father ran to the room first, followed by her sisters. Zoya felt numb. 

After a few minutes of silence and numbness, Zoya ran. She ran outside, ignoring her family calling her name.

She summoned a wind to break sticks, to knock down trees, to create deep holes in the ground. She wasn't thinking straight. She couldn't.

Eventually, her father came out to get her. He had to drag her screaming back to the house. 

The next few days passed in a blur. The funeral, where everyone wore black and Zoya wore dark blue. The days afterwards filled with silence. The long carriage ride back. 

But when Zoya stepped out of the carriage and walked up to the Little Palace, she showed no emotion. She wore her court face, her poker face, her usual face, and coldly said hello to everyone and told the servants to put away her things. 

 

 

 

 


End file.
